Beginnings
by NarniaLover303
Summary: Twenty-five thousand word one-shots, about the Pevensie's experiences during the Golden Age.
1. Beginnings

**Discalimer: If I owned the Chronicles of Narnia, then I probably wouldn't be writing a fanfiction about the Chronicles of Narnia.**

**Please enjoy! :)**

Beginnings

Lucy woke up to the clippity-clop of hooves outside of her bedroom door. Wait, what were hooves doing outside of her bedroom? Lucy sat up abruptly, and was further confused by the soft velvet of the embroidered blanket. Where was she? With a sudden rush of memory, she understood. They were in Narnia, Edmund had been kidnapped, Aslan had rescued him, He died for Edmund, her brothers went to war, Edmund was hurt, Lucy saved him, the coronation had been last night. The coronation! A wave of dizziness washed over Lucy as she pondered over the words. If there was a coronation, last night had seemed so magical that she couldn't decide whether it had been a dream or reality, then that meant that she was a Queen! Eleven years old, and already ruling a country! Along with her brothers and sister of course, but still. With a sudden course of excitement, Lucy jumped out of bed. She felt as she had every Christmas morning, eager to awaken the entire house and open presents. Except her new life was like a present being opened over and over again. Lucy flitted around her room, humming a song that she had heard last night to herself. There was a soft knock on the door, and Lucy called out a cheerful,

"Come in!"

The great oaken doors creaked open, and two nymphs came in. Lucy stood up from her wide vanity, not wishing to be rude. The nymphs dropped into identical curtsies, and said in unison,

"Good morning Your Majesty."

Lucy bobbed her head, feeling a bit uncomfortable. What were the nymphs here for? Her question was answered when they introduced themselves.

"I am Calita," said the shorter one, with mousy brown hair, "And I am Lillian, Your Majesty." The blond one with the tall, willowy arms, dropped another curtsy.

Lucy smiled,"It's very nice to meet you, and I don't mean to be rude, but why exactly are you-?"

She left her sentence hanging, feeling too embarrassed to finish. Should she know why they were here? Was this something that she was told, and was simply not paying enough attention to hear? Oh no, what if this was something that she should have automatically known as Queen? Well, in her defense, no one had exactly given her a handbook.

Calita smiled kindly, and explained,"We are your handmaidens, Your Majesty."

Suddenly, the situation made much more sense. The two nymphs were here to dress her, do her hair, help her get ready. Lucy flushed in embarrassment. She was perfectly capable of getting dressed by herself. What? Did the Narnians think that she was dumb?  
Take a deep breath She ordered herself to calm down. These two probably knew twice as much as she did on being queen, and how one should act. So, she plastered her smile back onto her face, and allowed the two to guide her over to the vanity. She sat down, and they immediately started talking.

"Your Highness, today you have to meet with the Fauns. They are having a terrible fight about who gets the forest by Beruna-"  
"Your Majesty, you and King Edmund must go over the border to Archenland in six days time to meet with King Lune, he has been requesting you and your brother's presences since the coronation-"  
"Your Majesty-"  
"Your Highness-"  
"You must-"  
"Have to start planning-"  
"Must send out those invitations, as soon as possible, or else-"

"Stop!" Lucy ordered, in a much harsher tone than she had intended.

Calita and Lillian immediately stopped talking.

Lucy took a deep breath,"Before we start the day, could you please help me get ready first? Then we can go down to the kitchens, and I am sure that Mrs. Beaver would be perfectly happy to make us some tea and biscuits. We can discuss what needs to happen after we are not running purely on empty stomachs, and minds that have not started working."

The nymphs nodded vigorously.

"One more thing," said Lucy. The nymphs bobbed their heads, "My name is Lucy. You have every liberty to call me this. I really do prefer that to my titles."

The nymphs looked uncomfortable about the suggestion, but nodded. Lucy turned around to look at the girls as they raced off to the closet to find a suitable dress. They came back, bearing with them a beautiful green dress with golden trimming. Lucy clapped enthusiastically, and the nymphs smiled gently at their young Queen's joy. Lucy found out the hard way that it really was a blessing to have help getting dressed. Narnian dresses were extremely comfortable, but this particular dress required a corset, a small hoop, and a jumble of strings. Calita went to the jewelry cabinet, and began searching through the contents for a suitable necklace. Lillian went searching through the bottom of the wardrobe for a pair of shoes. In the end, Lucy sported an emerald necklace. It was delicate, a small circle of gold encasing the precious gem. A thin chain of gold held the necklace, and her earrings were very much the same. Her shoes were made out of a comfortable brown leather that formed itself to her feet, and, before long, she was being sat down at her mirror, and a bristled brush was being pulled gently through her long hair. The nymphs worked their magic, and, before long, she looked like a queen.

Calita placed her silver tiara on Lucy's head, and exclaimed,"You look beautiful, Your- Lucy!"

Lucy smiled and twirled once or twice before the long mirror. After about five more minutes of her handmaidens fussing over the "frizzles" in her hair, the three of them headed down to breakfast. The only one of her siblings up this early in the morning was Peter. He had his golden crown on top of his dark blond hair, and was wearing a dark blue tunic with black leggings. He looked up from his breakfast, and smiled.

"Lucy! You look absolutely gorgeous, sister mine!"

Lucy blushed, and walked to the table to place a small kiss on her brother's cheek. "You are too generous brother mine."  
Peter smiled up at her, and, for the first time noticed the two nymphs that were standing back from the greetings, looking like they wanted to disappear into the walls.

"Hello." he said politely.

The two nymphs tripped over themselves trying to curtsy and say hello at the same time. Peter smiled kindly, and introductions were quickly made. Over tea and biscuits, the atmosphere lightened considerably, and the conversation was enjoyable. After a while though, Peter was pulled away by his advisor to discuss the politics of the new Narnia, and Calita and Lillian picked up right where they had left off in her bedroom.

Even though she knew that she would one day get used to it, right now, at the beginning, being a Queen was very confusing.

**Please review! It makes my day, and I always read the reviewer's stories since they took the time to read mine!**


	2. Sunrise

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Chronicles of Narnia, then I probably wouldn't be writing a fanfiction for the Chronicles of Narnia.**

**Please enjoy! :)**

"Your Highness? Your Highness, it is time to awaken."

Susan moaned, and rolled over. She knew why she had started the tradition, but sometimes it was a real pain to keep it. She opened up her chocolate brown eyes, and blinked rapidly, shielding her

eyes from the bright lamp. Her handmaiden, Halisha, was wearing a nightgown, and lightly shaking her shoulder. Susan sat up, and brushed the hair out of her face. Even though it had been over a

year since she had begun the tradition, she still did it every morning. It started about a week after her coronation. She had woken up very early one morning, and gone outside to her balcony to think.

It had been bitterly cold out, but every time that Susan considered going back inside, something pulled her back to the railing. An hour after she had gone out onto the balcony, she realized what she

had been waiting for. The sunrise. The orange rays slowly came out from their hiding place behind a large hill. When the first rays touched the land, Susan had gasped out loud. It was the most

singularly beautiful thing that she had ever seen in her life. Ever since, she had ordered her handmaidens to awaken her before the sun rose. Today was no exception. Susan slipped out from

underneath the covers, and Halisha slipped a woolen shawl around her shoulders. Susan nodded her thanks, and slipped her feet into the warm rabbit fur slippers. Halisha curtsied, and left the room.

Susan padded silently across the floor, and opened the stained glass doors to the balcony. She stepped into the warm morning air, and took a deep breath. The air in Narnia had always seemed to fill

her lungs more than the air in England had. She situated herself on the small wooden chair that was kept outside, and considered the rolling green hills that surrounded the Cair. Even know, over a

year after she had been crowned, she was fascinated with her new role. In England, she had been treated as a child, and, even though she still was one, in Narnia she was treated as an adult. She

was allowed to attend important meetings, and helped to make decisions. When she made an order, it was immediately carried out. People respected her, and nothing could have made her happier.

Her thoughts were cut short as the first rays of the sun peeked out from behind the hill. Every morning, Susan's breath was taken away. Nothing was more beautiful than the sun rising over the hill.

She sighed, and a smile flitted over her regularly serious features. For some reason, the sun had always made her appreciate more what she had been blessed with. Two overprotective brothers who

would battle to the death to keep her safe, a little sister who was so full of joy that she could light up the dark side of the moon. A kingdom that loved her and her family, adoring subjects. Queen

Susan had the perfect life. But, at the same time, there was always a tiny voice in the back of her had wondering what her life would have been like if she hadn t stepped through that wardrobe with

her siblings. Sometimes, even though she loved her position, Susan just wanted a day off from her duties. She wanted to get drunk, fall in love for no particular reason, go on an adventure, do

something. Then she remembered. If she gave up her life here, would she truly be happier? In England she was a mere child. In Narnia she was a well-respected Queen. And sure, in Narnia, you could

get drunk and have a good time. But was one night of forgetting herself worth losing the respectable image that she had built up for herself and her family? Susan was a queen now, and queens did

not go out and party. No. She would never. As the last rays came up over the hill, Susan headed back inside. She opened her wardrobe, found a perfectly respectable blue gown, brushed out her long

hair and tied it into a bun, and walked out of her room. The guards outside her door bowed low, and Susan curtsied politely back. She walked down the winding staircase into the dining hall, with

Halisha following her, listing the appearances that Susan had to show up to that day, and the duties that she would have to perform. Susan simply nodded, clarified a few points, and headed in to

breakfast. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy had already started. They looked up from their conversation, smiling at her. Susan smiled back, and joined her family for breakfast. Because on tat balcony, she had

made herself a promise. He family, her duties, her country, would come first. Never the next thirty years that the Pevensies reigned in Narnia, Queen Susan was known for one thing. Being

the most honest, selfless, caring, gentle, and respectable person that Narnia had seen in over one hundred years.

**Hope you liked it! Please review! It makes my day, and I always read the reviewer's stories, since they took the time to read mine! :)**


	3. Too Much

**Since I promised myself, and whoever is reading this, that I would post a chapter every other day, I got this on to fanfiction at 11:45 tonight. I worked hard on it, and I hope that you really enjoy this! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Chronicles of Narnia, then I probably wouldn't be writing a fanfiction for the Chronicles of Narnia.**

**He had fought great battles, saved his families lives, and began running a country at fourteen, yet Sir Peter Wolf's-Bane, High King over all kings in Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, couldn't learn Old Narnian to save his life. He had been seated in the same velvet-covered chair for over three hours, and could not say much more than "That donkey just went to the bathroom on my petunias." In frustration, Peter threw the leather-bound book onto the soft carpet of the floor. Besides learning a completely new language, Peter had to study maths, diplomacy, courting, dancing, and run a country all at the same time. All day, from the moment that his valets had woken him up, Peter had been in a foul mood. Everything that could have gone wrong today had. At breakfast, he spilt coffee all over his tunic. He had been unable to convince the Calormenes to sign a peace treaty with them, and had reduced Lucy to tears because he had yelled at her for nothing. He had even snapped at Orieus, one of the consequences of which had been a firm smack to the head, and a lesson learned the hard way. Running off to the library seemed to be the only way out of Susan's chiding, so, here he was. Trying, unsuccessfully might he add, at learning anything. He halfway rose from his chair to get Lucy's help, she had learned the language at a surprisingly fast pace, before remembering that she was furious at him. With a deep sigh, Peter put his head between his hands, and ran his fingers through his blond hair. Sometimes, being royal was a real pain. Even though he enjoyed every day, all he wanted was a little peace and quiet on occasions. There always seemed to be valets, courtiers, treaties to be made, balls to be held, the list went on forever. He knew that the dawn would bring a new day, and a new attitude, but right now, High King Peter felt a bit like crying. It was a strange sensation that he hadn't felt since his brother had almost died at Beruna. It felt as if a great blockage was in his throat, and his eyes stung. Peter sniffed, and rubbed his face. At sixteen, he was tall, well-built, and golden-haired. He looked like the type of person who would be at school, having a good time with his mates. Or, as was more common in England, at home, running a family while the father was away at war. Peter, and the rest of his siblings, had difficulty remembering the place that they had come from before Narnia. If he thought about it, he could remember fire-balls dropping from the sky, and hitting houses in his neighborhood. With a sudden flash, he recalled news reports, lists of the dead, alarms wailing. He remembered Lucy's terrified face every time that the alarms would sound, Susan trying to comfort her, Edmund and Peter forever arguing, his mother trying desperately to keep their family together, Peter praying every night that his father would come back from the war. Peter remembered one particular memory. **

**Their mother was bidding them farewell, and as she latched onto Peter in a final hug, she whispered, "Your a man now Peter. I expect you to take good care of the family, no matter what happens." He had nodded into her cinnamon-scented hair, a single tear trickling down his face. "I will, mum." The last time that he had seen his mother was out of a train window, and now, all that Peter wanted was to be hugged and kissed by his mother.**

** Even though he knew that Susan or Mrs. Beaver were perfectly capable of hugging him and providing comfort, none of them smelled like cinnamon. Peter knew how strange it sounded, but right now, when he was under copious amounts of stress from his "job", had to raise his siblings, and run a kingdom, all he wanted was to know that he was safe in his mother's arms. Peter let out a sound that was a halfway between a sob and another sigh, and stood up to put the Old Narnian book away. He believed that it was high time that he moved on to something simpler, such as maths. He pulled out a newer looking book, and flipped through  
the pages, until he found a lesson that was so long and complicated, he was going to give himself an aneurysm before he taught it to himself. Perfect. Just the right thing to keep his mind off of his past life. After a half hour of nearly boring himself to tears, Peter put the mathematics book back on to the shelf, too. He ran his fingers through his golden hair again, and decided that it was high time to apologize to Lucy for the way that he had acted to her earlier. **

**As he walked down the hallways, High King Peter decided that sometimes, being royal was too much.**

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Please review, I'd really appreciate it! :)**


	4. First Snow

The first snow in Narnia was always celebrated. Ever since the White Witch had been vanquished, the Narnians looked upon winter with a new eye. All of the little children would

make sleds out of the scrap metal from the blacksmith's shops, and vaulted down snow-covered hills, shrieking in delight. They would have countdowns to the night that Father

Christmas would visit, and leave teddy bears, toys, books, anything that their hearts desired. Even the adults were anxious for the holidays to begin. The fauns would dance

merrily all through the night, and had feasts and celebrations to their hearts content. The most prominent of these celebrations, however, was the Annual Winter Ball and Feast

in Cair Paravel. Lucy would always get into her nicest gown, allow her handmaidens to curl and arrange her hair for hours, and then would go down to the ballroom, and bounce

eagerly up and down in her throne, waiting for the celebration to begin. As soon as the ball began, she would be swept off her feet by suitors, fauns, and even the occasional

centaur. Everybody in the ballroom had a smile on their face when the youngest queen would throw back her head, auburn hair tumbling down her back, as she laughed at a joke

that she had been told. Queen Susan was a darker beauty that every man instantly wanted as their wife. She would bat her eyelashes, tell thrilling stories, and toss her raven

hair over her shoulders, the curls almost touching the marble floor. High King Peter was the life of the party as he greeted guests, smiled pleasantly, and talked to every person

or Animal within one hundred yards. There was only one monarch who did not enjoy the festivities. King Edmund would spend the night in his throne, quietly watching the

celebration, amusement dancing in his brown, almost black, eyes. Every girl, no matter how much of a crush they had on the dark-haired, mysterious King, let him be. They knew

the stories, had heard the rumors. King Edmund had betrayed his family, gone to the White Witch. He had been captured, tortured, bound and gagged. And to this very day,

his past haunted him. Usually, the youngest King hid it well. Only if you looked deep into his eyes could you see the buried pain. Except on the night of the first snow.

"Ed, why don't you just dance for one song?" King Edmund sighed as Lucy hounded him endlessly. It was the same thing every year. Everyone else at the ball would leave him

alone, including Susan and Peter. The only person who would not let it go was Lucy. He didn't want to dance. He wanted to sit here and be miserable. If it was his choice, there

would have been no celebration. Every winter brought on the same feelings. Shame, embarrassment, misery. All Edmund wanted to do was go upstairs to his large, warm bed,

and soak in his own shame. But no. He had to be here, at this ball, every year, and pretend that he was celebrating the arrival of another winter. He was sincerely happy that the

Narnians could enjoy the season again. He loved to watch people have a good time, but how was he supposed to be happy when the memories would simply not leave him

alone? Peter always told him to forget it, the past was the past, but _he_ didn't have to wake up every morning knowing that if Aslan hadn't died for him, an entire country would

have been annihilated. The Great Lion himself had not been seen in over five years, but every night, Edmund prayed for forgiveness. He begged Him to forgive Edmund for what

Aslan had had to through. Even though the Narnians had forgiven him, there were still a few who blamed him for what the White Witch had done, and he prayed for forgiveness

from them, too. Edmund looked up at his sister, and when green met black, Edmund felt a sudden warmth in his stomach, as if a golden fire was kindled in his soul. He took a

deep breath, and caught the brief scent of the Lion's Mane. He smiled, and Lucy's hopeful eyes glowed. As the next song began, everyone stopped their flawless dancing. Peter

and Susan were beaming, and the Narnians were whispering; astonished. Even the musicians faltered in their music. Was King Edmund really going to dance? Yes. He was. The

music picked up a lilting tune, a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too. Edmund launched into an intricate dance, twirling his sister around and around. She was laughing in

glee, and then the Narnians were laughing. Edmund felt a smile begin to spread across his face, and then he was laughing too. He threw back his head and enjoyed the presence

that was with him, surrounding the entire room. He threw away all of his cares, and danced, and laughed as he had never laughed before. Instead of Peter extending the ball, it

was Edmund who made the suggestion. All night long he danced with the princesses, the maids, the ladies-in-waiting, he even had a waltz with Peter after he had had a bit too

much wine. It was Edmund who stayed up until four in the morning shaking the guests' hands, and welcoming them back next year. It was Edmund who helped the maids clean

up, and it was Edmund who could not stop talking about the ball. And all of his siblings were happy. Because it was never Edmund when the first snow fell. But Aslan had, once

again, saved their brother.


End file.
